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I Love Myself cont

For those of you just tuning in, I had a huge realization last night. I realized that I actually do love myself. This is huge because I have spent my entire life in self-loathing and zero confidnece. When I started my journey to self-loving, I was kinda on my own. Which is how it’ll always be. You’ll have people to support you, maybe to tell you what to do, but you have to do all the work yourself. As a very lazy person by nature, this seemed like a very daunting task. Especially because I didn’t have a set of instructions of how to love yourself like I’m going to try to offer today. As an aspie with ADD, a set of instructions would have been awesome. Now, I’m still a work in progress for this loving yourself thing. I still hate my body, for example. But I’ve come so very far, and I’m sure I can help those of you that are not at my level yet.

At first, I wasn’t really sure if it was gonna work. I didn’t really think about that part. But I had learned that it was the only way I was going to be happy and have the kind of life I want for myself. And I was encouraged by seeing so very many people out there who had done so well. The steps I’m going to offer today are steps I think I took. I could be wrong, but it wouldn’t help to try them, right? I started near the end of high school, and I reached the point I’m at last night, at the age of 25. So if you try my steps, don’t worry if they’re taking a really long time to accomplish.

First of all, I had to be honest with myself about everything. As an aspie, this was very easy for me. It should also cause little trouble for you, because this first step doesn’t require any action. For example, I admitted to myself that I hold grudges. No, I didn’t like that about myself. But with the first step, I didn’t have to worry about doing anything about it. I merely had to be aware that that was something I did.

The second step is a million times more complicated it’s practice and/or acceptance. As a lazy person, I didn’t want to change my personality. Even though there was a lot about it that I didn’t like. This step took years upon years because it took a lot of observation and experience, instead of work, to do. See, luckily for me, I’m an inherently good person. That saved me a lot of work. Through this journey, I learned/accepted/decided that most of the things I didn’t like about myself–like my tendency to hold grudges–really weren’t that big a deal. For this specific example, I would tell myself and other people, “I am not God. I am not Jesus. I am not the Virgin Mary. I am a HUMAN, and as a human, it is ok to be imperfect.” choosing the road of acceptance, instead of change, seemed to make things easier on me, even though it took longer. As I matured, I learned how to treat people with respect and courtesy even when I was holding a grudge against them.

That leads into the longest, though not necessarily the hardest, step. Maturing. Growing up. Listening to people and reading blog posts like this. By nature, I have a tendency to turn down and invalidate people’s advice. “That won’t work for me because…”  While maturing, I taught myself to hold back those excuses. Then to think long and hard about the advice anyway. Eventually, I would begin to actually try the advice. Sometimes it was worth it. To grow up, you have to be open-minded. Yes, you are a unique individual. But that doesn’t mean that your self-loathing is so different from mine that it can’t be defeated like I’m slowly defeating mine.

Well, I guess I’ve explained it all as clearly as I can. I’m typing this on my phone as I think. I have no rough draft. So I’m going to say, now, that maturing is probably the most important part in this journey. You know how people older than you always tell you that they don’t care about other people anymore? If you continue to mature, you begin to realize why that’s so very true. You learn that other people don’t really matter. For example, my co-workers know I’m a ticking time bomb. It is impossible for them to tell if what they say or do will piss me off. But I’m a very hard worker. And after the anger subsides, I know how to treat them with respect and courtesy. So what if they think I’m psycho? That doesn’t affect me at all. Because I’m an adult and, as such, will still do my job. If they merely don’t like me just because of that, that’s their loss. Because this journey has taught what a beautiful person I really am. When I’m not being psycho :p.

Finally, I think you readers need to know what loving yourself really means. At first, I simply didn’t comprehend it. Was it love, like you love you significant other? Was it luv, like you luv your friends? Or maybe is it familial love? I’m pretty sure it’s quite different from all of those. But, at the level I’m at, it’s mostly like familial love. I am a member of my family, after all. Sometimes, it helps me to imagine myself as a little girl I am related to, and I just want to love her so very much. Because I know the ins and outs of that little girl. I know how she thinks, how she feels, and where she’s coming from. I know her needs, her wants, her aspirations. I know her heart.

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Posted by on September 21, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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You’re a Survivor

First of all, I know, I know, I know. It’s been forEVAR since I posted. Sorry. But this is on my mind right now, at 4:30am, and I can’t sleep, anyway. So, here it is.

So, I know this woman who was attacked maybe a year and a half ago or so. When she told me about it a couple months ago, she said something that worried me. And I wish I had said something then, but I think I might print this out and have her read it when she’s alone. If anyone reading this thinks that’s a good idea, let me know in the comments after reading. Or if you think it’s a bad idea. Just let me know your thoughts.

Anyway, she said, “Yeah, it’s embarrassing, but…” I thought, ‘Embarrassing? Oh, sweetie.’ See, you gotta see how I view it. This woman has survived what many people have not. She is thriving, yes, thriving in spite of what happened to her. And so are you, reader. You are stronger than you were before. Look how far you’ve come from that horrible act done upon you. Look how much you’ve succeeded in bringing yourself back to normalcy. No, you will never be the same as before. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t going back to normalcy.

As an outsider and an acquaintance, it looks like this woman has already come back to normalcy. In just a year! That’s unbelievable, imo. I never would have guessed that she had ever experienced that. It’s something to celebrate.

I was never physically attacked. But I was emotionally destroyed. Long story short, I was made to see my entire future burn before my eyes (metaphorically). And was told, “It’s not burning. It’s going in a different direction.” Bullshit. My world came crashing down and I fell into depression and overeating. It’s been three years and I’m still not back to normalcy. My meds still aren’t fully figured out and I’m fat as fuck.

But, I am a survivor. Like you, I have fought against the desire to hurt myself. The desire to treat myself like shit. We’re not perfect at it, I know. We have bad days. We have days where we break our stand and give up. But, if you’re reading this, know that we have never given up entirely. You and I, us survivors, we’ve made it through this far. You may have a long way to go, but look how far you’ve come.

I hope these words have helped you, reader. And I think they may help the woman I know. But I don’t want to dig up the past on her, either. If she’s embarrassed, she might be embarrassed to know that I think about it, and her, every now and again. BUT I’m a nice person and that niceness inside me just wants spill over and give her something to smile about. To help her change her view about herself, maybe. Idk, what do you guys think?

PS, if you ever need someone to talk to, e-mail me. laitiegrl@hotmail.com. It may take me a while to get back to you, but I will.

 
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Posted by on June 3, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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D for Depression

I know, I’m a day late. I’m sorry :(.

I heard that a lot of Aspies have depression. I didn’t find out I may have Asperger’s until I was diagnosed with depression. At first, I didn’t believe I had depression. I always had a tendency towards it. But with the way I was raised, I never believed I would actually have it. It’s complicated. But when the doctor started talking about medicating me, and when I considered the fact that I simply couldn’t get myself to do my homework no matter how hard I tried, I started to think, maybe.

About a year or so later, my parents were very concerned about the way I was going with my spending and the state of my bedroom (it’s disgusting). So they got in contact with a counselor. It wasn’t long after that when she started to think I might have Asperger’s. I’m not too sure what made her think it. Just all the sensory issues and stuff, I guess.

So I’m just another Aspie with depression, but it came about the other way around.

 
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Posted by on April 5, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Eat, Eat, Eat, Eat, Eat

All I do is eat, eat, eat, eat, eat. Seriously. Sometimes, it gets to the point where I’m force-feeding myself. Why? Because I have Asperger’s.

With my Asperger’s, I’m big on how things feel, physically and emotionally. And the physical and emotional often connect. I’ll get bored, or I’ll just get cravings, and nothing will satisfy me except eating whatever I’m craving. And that craving will be: chocolate, carbs, something-unhealthy-besides-chocolate, something-unhealthy-maybe-chocolate, hard-candy-like-lollipops, you get the idea. BTW, those are literally the words that go through my head when I’m craving.

I’ve tried doing other sensational things (or whatever the word is) before eating, to try and trick my brain into not wanting to eat anymore. Like petting the dog. I love petting the dog. But even that doesn’t compare to eating.

See, eating feels so good. Taste feels so good. Like, really freaking good. Imagine your favorite food, ever, of all time. Now multiply that sensation and satisfaction by ten. That’s probably what my least-favorite-but-still-like-it food does to me. I mean, I’m no shrink, but that’s what I’m guessing considering how freaking easy it is for everyone else to give up food compared to me. I. Can’t. Do. It.

“Oh, just do smaller portions.”

Where the fuck is the satisfaction in that?

I seriously want to cry right now. I just force-fed myself two PB&J sandwiches because I was just craving carbs. My mouth just wanted to chew something soft like that and my tongue just wanted to taste something nice like that (but, dear God, don’t suggest chewing fabric. I can’t stand fabric in my mouth. Bread and fabric are different. Idk how, but they are). I can never get enough. Even when my stomach is ready to burst.

I have no control. I used to have control. It used to be so much easier. Then I got depression and all went to Hell. Please, is there anyone that can help me?

 
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Posted by on March 17, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Dinner at My Boyfriend’s Family’s

I was invited to a dinner thing my boyfriend, L’s, mother was throwing. So I head over after work. I’m the first one there, so when the next guest arrives, I go to help L control the dogs and open the door.

What’s the first thing L’s mom’s friend, K, says to me? “Have you lost weight?”

Seriously? My weight is that important to you? That it’s the first thing you notice and feel the need to comment on? The first thing you can think of to say to me? My weight?

But whatever. It gets better.

For some reason L and I were not immediately socializing with everyone. So when we walk into the kitchen, what are L’s mom and K talking about? Weight loss.

Seriously?

…Seriously???

There are soooooo many things in the world to be talking about, and you’re talking about weight loss in front of me? No one even tried to change the subject, either. They just kept blabbing away about what has worked for this person or that person. Oh, and this worked for L’s mom, A. Because everything’s so fuckin easy peasy for A. Just do this and this and don’t do this and you’re good.

My mom tried to tell me to let it go. That it didn’t mean anything. Well, it fuckin meant something to me. It hurt. A lot. There’s so much more to people than their weight, but that’s all they care about. They don’t even know half the shit I go through in my head every day. How impossible it is to deny my super-hunger and cravings, especially on top of everything else I deal with.

And y’know what? I treat A’s son like fuckin gold. Because I want to and he deserves it. That should be all that anyone cares about.

 
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Posted by on December 27, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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On Writing and Mental Health

I guest blogged on Maria Ann Green’s blog about how mental disabilities and illness have made me a great writer.

 
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Posted by on November 20, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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Why Birth Control Shouldn’t be Free

I don’t really like the fact that birth control, by itself, is free by law. Hear me out.

You have a choice about having sex or not. You don’t have a choice about having diabetes or not. You don’t have a choice about having depression or not. I have to pay over $800 a month just to avoid killing myself. Oh, but I can go fuck whoever I want and be irresponsible as fuck without getting pregnant for free. OK. Because that makes sense.

No, places should not refuse birth control insurance. But that’s only because birth control is often used for medical purposes, like for my PCOS. You wanna fuck around and not get pregnant? Get off your lazy ass and pay for it.

I am a feminist. I’m a responsible feminist. When you go around and have sex, you have to be resposible about it.

If birth control is free, all medications should be free. That’s all I’m sayin’.

 
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Posted by on November 16, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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